Choices
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: Shortly after the war ends and eighth year begins, Headmistress McGonagall calls Draco into her office. He just wish he knew what she wanted beforehand.


Written using **Variety of Prompts** (Writing Style: Monologue (first person))

 **Disclaimer** : As always, ownership of Harry Potter does not belong with me. All rights belong to the lovely J.K Rowling, and her wonderful world. I am just merely borrowing these characters to keep me entertained in between classes and work. Thank you for understanding.

So I haven't done first person in quite some time. I've done third person often. I've taken a liking to second person. But first is something I've avoided like the plaque. So this one will be fun and different for me.

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She called me into her office about two days into our returning year. Classes hadn't even started yet. I won't lie, I was expecting her to curse me the moment I stepped foot into the Headmaster's office. That, or for her to demand I leave the school; why she let me back in in the first place was beyond me.

She would have been justified in both actions. The list of sins I had gathered with my name while under the thumb of the Death Eaters had amounted far beyond what I would ever forget. Several of those atrocities had hurt her directly. She had all right to hate me. All right to kick me out of that school.

So upon entering the office, eyes catching sight of the white bearded form sleeping in the portrait, I couldn't help but gulp.

What a coward I was. It seemed that my time living in terror didn't help in driving that cowardice spark from my mind. I'd been forced to live under the same roof as a Dark Lord who felt I was his personal whipping boy. After that experience, I shouldn't be scared of the aged woman sitting behind the desk. But as she caught my gaze, I couldn't help but feel like that first year she'd given detention to so many years ago.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall smiled at me, though why I didn't know. It had to be a trap. As she waved me closer, I tried to look for any clues of an ambush. I almost didn't shut the door to the office in fear of blocking my escape route.

"You wished to speak with me Professor." I tried to keep it light, not letting on my anxiousness.

"Please sit," she motioned. I did so. With a smile still on her face, McGonagall rose from her chair. She moved slowly, age finally beginning to catch up with her. I realized just how old she really was.

"How are you doing?"

I watched her for a moment as she came around to the front of the desk. Slowly, she sat in the chair next to me. I turned slightly, now facing her. There had to be something I was missing. Surely this was going to take a bad turn for me any moment now.

"I'm alright," I answer, trying to push that paranoia down.

"That's good," McGonagall nodded. "I am glad to hear that. How are the dorms working? I've been getting decent comments."

"I can't complain." It was the only response I could give. Learning about the eighth year dorms had worried me at first, especially once I learned that Blaise and I were sharing a dorm room with none other than Potter and Weasley. But there had yet to be murder attempts, so that was a positive.

"That's good to hear." There was something in her voice that I couldn't decipher. I'd heard the tone before. It was one she used when trying to decide rather to hand out detentions or turn a blind eye.

The paranoia was rising despite my best efforts.

"I do have a question for you, Mr. Malfoy." Her tone went a little sharper. "I wish for you to be completely honest with me."

I gulped. Here it was. "Yes professor."

A hint of a smirk came across her face. "What do you plan to do after you graduate?"

"Excuse me?" I blinked several times. I must have looked stupid with that shocked expression on my face. But I couldn't help it. This wasn't what I was expecting.

"After you graduate," the Professor continued speaking. "What are your plans if I may ask?"

"I…" it wasn't that I didn't want to answer. It was more like I didn't know the answer. I shook my head. "Don't really know at the moment."

This didn't seem to surprise the headmaster. "That's quite alright. Was there a path you were thinking of taking? What did you and Professor Snape talk about during the fifth year conferences?"

I ran a hand over the Dark Mark under my sleeve. It was a habit. I remembered that conversation. It had seemed so dumb at the time. All the fifth years were supposed to discuss with their Head of House about future career paths. I already knew the path my life would take from that point. What was the use of fighting against it? Looking back, I wish I had fought.

"It's quite alright." McGonagall was being surprisingly patient and calm through the whole conversation. It made me feel a bit pathetic sitting there like some lost first years. "I do wish for you to be completely honest with me here Draco."

"I am," I answer quietly. "We didn't really talk much. I already knew what my future was going to be. There wasn't any other path to consider."

I expected her to be disgusted and ask me to leave. I was used to it. Instead, she just looked sad. And then she reached forward. I'm ashamed to admit that I flinched. It was more a reflex at this point than a conscious action. She noticed the movement, but didn't press it. She placed her wrinkled hand on my knee. It was uncomfortable the way she gave off a caring vibe. She shouldn't care.

"You do have the choice now," McGonagall said. Her voice was soft. It reminded me of the way my mother had talked to me as a kid. "It is time for you to make your decisions. This is your future. You deserve a say in the matter."

What a foreign concept. I almost didn't know what having a choice meant. After all, I'd spent my entire life allowing someone to guide and control me in one way or another. I'd listened to my father tell me for years what my future would be. I would become a Death Eater, rise in power and make a name for myself. When the time came I would take over the family business, marry, have an heir and live my life as the proper pureblood upholding the proper pureblood values.

Anything else was ridiculous. Of course by time I'd gotten it into my head to think different I was already shoved onto the chest board like the pawn I was.

The fact that this teacher was offering the choice now was almost laughable.

"What is it that you wish to do now Draco?"

Her question reached my ears, but it didn't exactly register. I watched her, eyes narrowed slightly. "Why? Why are you asking? Why do you care?"

Despite the ting of frustration in my voice, the headmaster remained calm. She almost smiled.

McGonagall withdrew her hand from my knee. "Sometimes I wonder how things might have changed if we paid the last few years of Slytherins the same amount of attention we did the rest of the school. I always try to be fair, but I am human, and sometimes my bias gets in the way. And for that I apologize."

I cut her off. "You have no reason to."

"But I do." She continued. "You were nothing more than a child. And we abandoned you to Lord Voldemort's control." I flinched at the name. I still flinch at the name. "I cannot make up for those actions, and I will not ask your forgiveness on the matter. But I wish to make right those wrongs. And in doing this I wish to assist you in any way you need. Which at the moment seems to be helping you in deciding your next step."

There was a moment of silence. And then I laughed. It wasn't held back any more. I didn't fight it. It was an inappropriate time to laugh. It was a little disrespectful and I knew my mother would have my hide for such an action. But I couldn't help it.

McGonagall looked shocked from my outburst.

Quelling the laugher, I spoke, "I'm sorry. It's just, I thought the worst of coming in here. I figured you were pissed at me. Rightfully so after all I've done. I should be the one begging for forgiveness."

"There is no reason to." McGonagall said. Once more the smile was coming onto her lips. It was a comforting sight.

Her gaze darted towards the sleeping man in the portrait before falling back onto me. "Between Albus and Mr. Potter I've managed to get the whole story of that night. I know the position you were in. I know you never wanted to be involved. And I know that you are not that kind of person, Draco Malfoy. Yes, you are proud, stubborn, ambitious, and often a little too cheeky for your own good. But you are not a killer. You are not a monster. And you are most certainly not lost to us. I just wish the rest of the Wizarding World could see and understand that as well."

I didn't fight the smile that came onto my lips. With a shrug of a shoulder, I shifted the conversation back to the original topic. "I like potions."

It took her extra moment to realize what I said. "I remember. You were usually top of the class. I had a bet with Professor Snape over rather you or Miss Granger would top in various classes. I always lost when it came to that class."

Any time before now I might have found offense with the comment. Instead, I had to smile a bit. With the tension and feud between Granger and I down, the academic rivalry seemed childish and petty in the long run.

"Have you looked into careers that center around that aspect?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

Standing, she moved over towards the bookshelf. McGonagall came back, setting a rather thick book on the desk. I leaned forward, reading the text. _Career Paths: Potions_. It was a foreboding looking book.

"You can take some time to look through it if you wish. Or not." McGonagall didn't retake her seat. Instead she was standing beside me, a hand resting on my shoulder. "Do remember that you have the final say in this matter."

I knew that. It still seemed strange. I took a moment to consider it. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I only half fought to keep it down.

"Thank you," I said, and took the book, and my future, into my own hands.

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End file.
